


Tree of Life

by ArcanaHeart



Category: No Fandom
Genre: F/F, F/M, M/M, Other
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-10-06
Updated: 2019-05-22
Packaged: 2019-07-25 21:13:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 4,807
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16205789
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ArcanaHeart/pseuds/ArcanaHeart
Summary: I got no words for this.Trust me, it's like, really good. But I don't know what the hell I'm writing or anything at that, it's just coming to life on its own.But all the stories connects to each other in some ways.





	1. Weeping River

Weeping River

________________

“ Wail as much you wish, child.

Your mother or father will not return.”

________________

I sing and you bow to the singer. I dance and you smile to the dancer. I make music and you dance to the music. I don’t really do anything as you don’t speak anymore. How can I do much when you lie there, dead to the world but yourself. Ah dear, you should be asking for something instead of sitting there with your eyes glassy as a fish. Tomorrow, you’ll be put into a special hospital that helps people like you. Although, I know the real reason behind the special place but I won’t tell it to you. Your mind’s probably off somewhere but, ah. I wouldn’t be cheating if I told you a little hint. A hint of what, you might wonder but it’s in the hospital. So, you’ll be okay at there. Or, at least I hope you’ll be okay. Ah, this is too much for me to fret over.

_________________________________

Dear, Gersy. I wish you were here to see the madness that this world creates. It is absolutely the feast of the Gods. I don’t believe in much but if Gods were here, they’d love this mayhem this world creates in attempts to live. Oh well, they’re just not the right spot for us to live in. Same as the last one, Gersy. So, I imagine the rest of the other worlds will be similar to this world and the last world we’ve been to before. I wouldn’t stay here if I was alone and wasn’t with you. So, basic line here, you have final say of this mayhem of a world. Gersy, I do hope you have the good choice of a conscience here.  

_____________________________

“Janua, Janua, we can’t keep going! This is such a bad idea,” Ianun moaned feebly at his long time friend that he was soon regretting following on this insane adventure of hers. “Oh, come on, Ianun,” Janua laughed as she broke apart the leaves and branches, creating a bloody path. “You told me, you wanted to join in my exploration of the Path of Gaina!” Ianun winced as Janua broke another branch and threw it to the ground. “Yes, I know I said that,” he cringed as the girl turned to give him the most bored look with mischief dancing in her eyes. “But that doesn’t mean that you can scatter blood on the land!” Ianun rushed his words and became trampled by Jauna’s. She stopped in her track entirely and stared at her long timed friend. “Ianua,” Janua started, quiet as a mouse but eyes dark and stormy as the seastorm. “I specifically heard you say, that  _ you _ wanted to see how the Path of Gaina looked like, when we were way younger. Not anything about scattering blood on the land. There is absolutely nothing about not spilling blood onto the land. I am not spilling any! I am just well,  _ in your own words _ , ‘Trashing the land’, or the Path of Gaina,” Janua’s eyes narrowed at Ianun’s sheepish face. “Ianun De-Forgienza, you are a foolish donkey [ass] for even deciding to go along with this idea of mine.” Green eyes flashing betrayal and shock as his childhood friend had called Ianun an absolute trash in the politest way. “You..It would be best for you to go back. There’s rumors of boys or girls going in here and turning up dead.” Jauna whirled around and stalked off in the way of a tiger would in agitation. “J-Jauna!” Ianun shouted after the disappearing image of his friend. “Please! Don’t!” He screamed in vain. Tears from the heaven poured down, unforgiving and cruel to the two people in the Path of Gaina. 

_____________________________

It seems that the Path of Gaina is the Path of Lost. Ianun lost his friend, Janua, to the unforgiving belief he held for several years. Janua lost her only friend to his belief of non-killing while she thirsted for war. Ianun wished for peace, Janua wished for war. Neither would admit that they both need each other to balanced out the other. Thus, the Path of Gaina is hidden by vast sorrow, the most prideful man would succumb to pleasure to drown out the sorrow that raged on them. The most strongest, falling terribly down a mountain of Hell. The most loyalist, damaged beyond recognition. Everyone should know the suffers of a god but not the tears of the god. Gersy knows this as well. Lamua lamets the day she fell from the highest, to the most lowest. Kamulet drowns his sorrows in arries of rum. Jauna acknowledges this too late as she succumbs to madness of war. Ianun screams of the darkest nightmares that crept into his dreams at the darkest hour of his night. 

_____________________________

Kamulet dreamt of the days of where he was free on the seas with his  _ Flying Dutchman _ , sailing with his crew that hollered and screamed but got along as family. A family that would soon be slaughtered in the rage of their captain, Kamulet. The rumors goes spinning that he was possessed by the Wailing Sea, demanding sacrifices to be pleased. The captain didn’t want anything to do with those rumors that sought him as the black sheep of the fleece. Only that, Kamulet wasn’t a sheep that was targeted by the wolves. He wasn’t a ram that could protect itself. He wasn’t anything but a human. A human that became so guilt-ridden that he drove himself up the wall, repeating,  _ “why?” _ Why what? Why did he do it? Why did he go and drank all the rum that would last him for three months. Why did he allow his family to get so discorded that Kamulet decided to murder them all? So many  _ why’s _ and so very little answers. He had once taken a shotgun to his head but threw it out into the ocean. Oh, how he wished he had taken that shot but knew he hadn’t a choice in this. Kamulet sighed as he pulled himself out of the hammock and met his friend in the eyes. “Oh, Sotcheye. Thought you got bored and died off in that haven of yours.” Sotcheye snorted and held out a fat cig to Kamulet with a yellowed teeth grin. “You deserve to see this, Kamulet,” he cackled madly as he waved the cig around the cabin. Kamulet sighed and waved away the cig in his face. “No. I don’t need it. You know that I’ve never touched that kind of thing for what. Five or eighteen years?” A puff of smoke spilled outward and Sotcheye puffed and with a nasally voice,”Nineteen years, Capt’n.” Kamulet pointed at Sotcheye and with a crooked grin with few teeth missing. “Thar the girlie I were tellin’ ye ‘bout!” He whooped and fell backward onto the floor. “Yar drunk?” A sigh replied Sotcheye’s question. “I drank all of my rum last night. I still wonder, after drinking enough to kill a herd of buffalos, how am I not dead?” Sotcheye took the seat far to the left of the cabin, near to the door but away from it. “Laura’s dead, ya know. Everybody’s dead as well that ghost town you even call home.” 

“Yeah, I know.”

“You’ve been in a depressive mood that’s been killing the waves and the birds. It’s even affecting our watchmen.”

“So? They’ve best get used to it.”

“Capt’n.”

“Get out, Sotcheye.”

“Kamulet. You know this-”

“Shut up. I’m the Captain of  _ Flying Dutchman _ . When I say, get out. You best to run and drown.” 

“Of course. I’ll be leavin’ now.” The sound of two wooden pegs clanking on the wooden floor and the closing of the cabin’s door sounded too loud to Kamulet’s ears. The captain of  _ Flying Dutchman _ wept for the entire night as he knew that he was talking to thin air made of his drunken hallucinations. Still in mourning of his lost crew. If there was anyone left alive of the crew, they’d be trying to prove that their family had simply driven him over the edge. Literally.

_____________________________


	2. The wandering of the Losts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It continues from last page as I got like already 7 pages typed out from letting my mind go nuts.   
> So, this might become Seven Deadly Sins in my own version. Here's Lamuet, the protector of the Gilded Kingdom! They're either called Lamua or Lamuet. Genderfiuld knight!

_____________________________

Lamua remembers the golden days of where she was sung in the history with praises and endless amount of worshipments. Now she was revered as the monster of the Gilded Kingdom. Lamua minded and didn’t minded the talk as long she was kept in history’s wine cellar room. Touched and sipped from but left to become ancient. But the kind that would powerful to even drink and would be used to douse a body or two in flames. Lamua remembered her mother always saying that Lamua was similar to the personification of Lament, hence the name, Lamua. She hated it but tolerated it as it gave her a chance to switch identities. She could be Lament or be Lamua any time of the day as Lament never spoke or acted. He was dead. Metaphorically. The idea of her being a monster brought light to the weary travelers and motivated them to rush straight to her death trap. The Gilded Kingdom stood the way it did for many years, maybe centuries. It shone golden and  _ pure _ . It made her blackened soul roar with laughter. Lamua  _ knew _ what went inside the so called  _ Gilded Kingdom _ of all time. People went off with each other. Drank all the boozes away underground, safe from the Law Punishers’. Underground masses murdered for money and territories. Lamua sighed, drawing a figure in the mud with a stick. She was contented with just leaving them at that. People at people’s throats. But of course, Lamua placed a ‘X’ over the figure in the mud, the rulers of the  _ Gilded Kingdom _ had to request her to destroy all of the chaos happening in the kingdom. Not knowing that the King would take advantage of her “protecting” the kingdom, and cast her out as monster. The Queen was embedded in Lamua’s debt for life, so she declared her as Protector of the  _ Gilded Kingdom _ . Two royal powers against each other. Lamua lamets but never took part in the war that wiped out the kingdom. She, instead, protected the Queen from the shadows. Lamua had told the Queen that she would die with or out the protection of the Royal Soldier of the kingdom. At least Lamua told her, her thanks of protecting her. 

_ “Milady, I give my deepest thanks for the saving at the cost of everything.” _

_ Lamua was bowing, head down as in prayer and both hands in the formal position of a soldier bowing to the rulers.  _

_ Queen Laughton smiled ruefully in her covers. Waving away the formal  _ thank you _ from her loyal friend.  _

_ “Please,” she laughed softly. “Don’t be so formal, Lamua friend.” _

_ “But-milady!” _

_ “ _ I _ insist. Honestly, Lamua Revorzana, you know I loathe formalities, especially as this!”  _

_ Laughton waved her friend up and onto her feet. Ignoring the fussing of Lamua’s concerns. _

_ “I must say, as much I love to see you again. I must be cutting this eventful down to the chase, Lamua. Why are you here? You barely visit unless with reasons.” _

_ “I’ve come to warn you that I cannot always protect you, Jeannet. You’ll die soon, with or out of my protection.” _

_ Queen Laughton nodded, a resignful look upon her face. _

_ “I feared you’d say that, friend. I do know my time is coming very soon.” _

_ Lamua sighed and bowed with the right over her heart and the left at her side. _

_ “It was a honor to serve by your side, Queen Jeannet Laughton.” _

_ “Thank you. My dear but, I have just one last request-a plea if you will.” _

_ Lamua Revorzana looked back at her once-queen. She tilted her head in question but understanding shone through her eyes. _

_ “What is it, Jeannet?” _

_ Taking shaky breaths, Jeannet toss aside the coverings and stood proud in her country’s kins’ clothings. Face hard as stone and sturdy but Revorzana saw through it. Saw the scared child from all these years ago. Saw her plea but didn’t act upon it. Not without her friend’s say. _

_ “Kill me before those underdogs of the King kills me.” _

_ “Even if I am an underdog of both sides?” _

_ Jeannet nodded. _

_ “Even if you are an underdog of this waging war. The kingdom was going to fall, one way or the other, really.” _

_ Drawing her infamous sword that was rumored to have killed several in one swing, and save several in one swipe. _

_ “I agree. We’re all going to hell anyway. For this,” Lamua took on the formal and informal pose of holding the sword. She remembered the last words that her friend had said to her before being slain by her own two hands. _

_ “Then, let’s say a prayer to nothing.” _

_ “I’ll give you the honor of dying at my own hands.” _

 

 

 

That was five months before the kingdom fell. By the hands of Revorzana’s sword and armor.

She still wonder how would it had played differently. Howling with laughter in the middle of the night, bringing the Gilded Kingdom’s aura to demolish itself even further. She was foolish to even hope for an everlasting paradise inside the  _ Gilded Kingdom _ . 

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	3. Chapter 3

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She foolishly hoped that she would’ve died along with the kingdom. But alas, the gods need someone to carry the tragedy out again and again. Neverending. Well, that’s how it’s supposed to go. Gersy, you lied to me! You’re a liar and a traitor! We need humans to survive. They are what keeps us living. Gersy, you are blind! Blind as a bat. Blinder than a bat! Earth is what keeps the humans alive; keeping us alive with the humans’ beliefs in our cultures. How could you not see that!

Gersy, talk to me.

Why are you doing this?

…

Gersy.

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The hint is really simple, really. All you ought to do, is  _ play _ along, really. To their games and twisted, morided ideas of  _ fun _ and  _ adventure _ . Ah, Mikey. That’s the wrong way to do the game, you’ll get thrown into the Silent Room. Get your tongue cut out and you’ll never speak for rest of your life. Unless you know some sign languages. Which, reminds me of your  _ special _ condition of your person. Well, you’ll probably be back to your old sassy self in no time. Mike, can you exceed my expectations for you? They’re not much but enough to go beyond the norms, honestly. ...Can you really beat their games and twisted funs…? Can you prove it to me when you awaken in the hospital? There’s so many possibilities to go and so few actual solutions. I hope you can exceed it.

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The madness, some people thrives in it. Some people just straight up fall from the lines of  _ okay _ and  _ fine _ to straight down  _ living hell _ . Janua knows this very well. She didn’t like the madness at first, but then grew to tolerate it, then she absolutely  _ loved _ it. She hated liars that lied to everyone, even their own family and themselves. That was once her mother before she fell into never ending despair of depression that she made herself into with a debt that she could never pay back. She absolutely loathe thieves that stole from homeless, beggars, merchants. Even if it was to try to live. Janua was raised to see equality where her family could not. She saw no equality at all in the world. That was once her older brother, small and frail, enough to pass as weak but was sneaky and cunning as hell. He was shot to death by one of the merchants that had a shotgun on himself. Janua didn’t mourn the loss of her brother at all. Her mother took the chance to drink herself to death and beyond. She hated killers that killed without remorse and no reasons. That was once her father, who killed for his guilty pleasures. Lynched to death for over hundreds of deaths. Guilty, every damn of them was guilty! Janua tiptoed a tightrope of danger and mayhem but was safely on a plank when she met Ianun De-Forgienza in the form of five year old’s body. She was happy to finally see some innocence. But, alas, nothing’s meant to last forever.

She fell into war within herself.

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_ “ _ _ Hey, let’s disappear. _ _ ” _

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	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for this being a little shorter than the previous chappies!

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Ianun remembers when he met chaos personified, Janua Hamunyela. It was a hot year, water and crops was sacred. Janua had roamed into the village, curiosity driving her to the edge and causing her to live dangerously. He had flailed over her curiosity. He loved peace as it was simple as breathing. Ianun and Janua was fast friends that day. It was his abuela’s birthday. As well Janua’s birthday. He couldn’t tell if it was good luck or bad luck that two people’s birthdays fell on the same days. He screamed awake from a nightmare of his family being killed by Janua’s hands. He always checked on Janua and his family after that. The nightmares didn’t really end at all, really. His two little sisters, older brother and father were still alive. Janua was dead asleep next to his makeshift bed. He woke her up and made her promise that she would never go to war with the village at all. She promised him, so  _ why!? _ Why did she called off their friendship? And no less, their promise! Ianun swore in the Path of Gaina, that he would be the one to end Janua and the Path of Gaina. Abuela Sparza saw the rage inside her oldest nephew’s eyes. She took Ianun aside and told him,  _ “What has gotten into you, Ianunqa? You never promise war, you promise peace. Peace is better than war.” _ Ianun frowned even more deeply and spoke, “Abuela Sparza, Janua has called off our promise. Path of Gaina, called it off. Everything.” Abuela Sparza gasped and fell to her knees.  _ “Mija, mija. Why does mija do this?” _

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Someone is singing a song. A song to the empty silence around the lady. Sounds of natural noises falls silent to heed her singing. She is a ghost that sings forever and cannot move at all. The lady is attached to the empty clearing that killed her. Who killed her? No one. Not a person. Not an animal. It was the place that swallowed her up. Starved to death but she looked fit and full of life. Hair falls as the spring water. Dress made out of deerskins, barely passing her knees. Eyes sunken but shining as the night. Face ashened white by the sun, hidden from civilizations. She is told by the gods that she will stay here, dragging all that wanders by, into an unforgiving death. They call it,  _ Pandora’s Trap. _ She will sing a song to drag all wanderers to their cruel demise. The lady pleaded with the gods to let her go but they turned a blind eye and a silent ear onto the lady. Thus, letting time to slip away from her eyes and ears, she too, turned both eyes and ears away from the pleas from the wanderers that wandered to their punishing demise. The first and the last time she spoke, actually spoke was.. _ Where did the time go?  _ It was to a stranger that helped her to sing, the lady felt that she knew this stranger but could not place a finger on it. She had killed the stranger by dragging him underneath. When the lady found out why did the stranger felt familiar to her,  _ the gods laughed.  _ The stranger was the lady’s fiancee, the one she had been singing to for years and years. How long had it been as her fiancee was old as the lady’s hair. She demanded the gods to give her something in exchange for her workment as their comedian. The gods gave her nothing but one pitiful goddess gave the lady the animals and sound. “I cannot give you back time as it has wasted away from you, lady. But I can give this piece of nature to you.” The lady thanked the goddess and gave her five berries of each kind. Blueberry, strawberry, raspberry, blackberry, and gooseberry. The goddess thanked her and disappeared. That was the last time anyone had heard from the Lady. Even the gods did not hear or see her for eons to come, perhaps that was their own doing, blocking out everything except their own greeds and selfish’ desires.

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Gersy, you did it again. You do know the damages is being paid by me? I don’t have pockets of gold unlike your family. Honestly, I’m not surprised you ended up in here. Again. I’m your bodyguard but you treat me like a common jewel. A common jewel that can be used and thrown multiple times. I’m also your friend, Gersy. You seem to keep forgetting that. Don’t tell me, the power has gotten to your head? Gersy, you’re becoming unlike yourself. Where is that friend  _ I _ know is in your body somewhere. Is it also hollow or is this actually you? I knew I shouldn’t have let you gone off after that power rumored to overthrow gods or humans. I’ll get you out soon but not now. Don’t snap at me! Who’s the one that landed himself into a jail cell? That’s right, you are the one that did it all. Not me, not your family, not anyone. So what if they insulted us? It’s literally all the same whenever we go Home, it’s the same! Gersy, shut up.

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I once asked a friend to do me a favor. It was simple really. I told him to go get the Bakery’s homemade muffins so I could set it all up for the visitors I was going to have. He never came back but there was piping hot muffins by the window by the time I turned around to greet the knocking at the door. I think there’s someone at the door but can’t really tell. My eldest daughter told me that she saw a person standing outside of the door when I was gone on a errand for this banker fellow. I told her, well, why didn’t you let the fellow in? Her response? “The guy that was outside of my door, was in my room’s closet. He’s dead, mama. Open the door and the dead comes swooping in like vultures.” I didn’t believe her. She ended up moving into a old alleyhouse where a old cat lived and died. I always felt amusement when Jane called and begged me to get rid of a rodent or something. There’s always something for her to call me upon. But this one time, Jane called, all frantic-like. She goes, “Mama! Mama, come over here, please! Someone’s in the house!” Her voice was quivering as a reed pipe and shaky. I knew something was wrong as my Jean never cried, not once since Tom moved out of the house. I flew out of the tenant in my evening clothings, only consisting of loose jean pants, a dirty tank top, a couple of ratty pink slippers with my hair obviously messed up and put in a hasty bun. All in all, I looked like a college worker in short. I arrived at my daughter’s alleyhouse and the front door creaked and croaked darkly. I heard a scream following a shatter of glass and a roar of a monster. I broke into a run and slammed the door open. Suddenly, all noises ceased to a white static in the background. “Jean Louise? This better not be a prank, girl.” No answer from Jean at all. I started to get worried as just moments ago, she was crying and shaking over on the phone. I started to look around the house. I headed toward the room I suspected, the master bedroom. Her room was littered with gardens and art supplies. Bao, the ugly cat that Jean adopted was sitting on the bed, hissing. I paused in wonder and watched the cat’s actions. Bao continued to growl and hiss at absolutely nothing. “Bao, what are you doing? There’s nothing here,” I sighed and approached the ugly cat. Soon enough, Bao was going to claw at my hands when the ugly cat darted off to the bedroom closet. Pawing and clawing at the old wood that Jean refused to take out of the house, simply because she loved the wood texture. I heard crying and sobbing from behind the closet doors. I steadied my heart, to no use as it was beating as a hummingbird and opened the closet doors.

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	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry for the long hiatus, my old laptop was given to my older brother for his work!!
> 
> So here's a Chappie!

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He once loved the freedom that the sea possessed. Had looked over the sea, and saw only the beauty that ordinary people saw but saw the raging nightmare that veteran sailmen sought out. Kamulet was the son of a whore and a dastardly pirate that sailed the sea. His mother, in rags but still retained her beauty, had told Kamulet this, “You have the looks of your father. I do hope you are able to ride the sea as its helper, instead of the tamer. It just brings the crueler side out.” He wouldn’t be able to trust anyone after that, no matter how much he desperately wished to trust that nice lady that sold breads to him at a discount. Kamulet learned the secret to survive in a world like his, not trusting anyone. So it didn’t really surprise him that his first mate had left him for a better captain and crew, to only return in terrible shape, pleading for mercy and to rejoin the crew. Kamulet beheaded the formerly first mate and didn’t have any first mate for a good while until his good friend, Sotcheye. Kamulet soon took to the sea, hailing the ship,  _ The Dutchman _ . Soon earning the most feared name in the land. Navy ships took to chasing after Kamulet’s crew and aiming for the captain’s head but always failed as the soldiers either died or survived but couldn’t speak because their tongue was cut out. They lived in fear of the Red eyed captain of  _ The Dutchman. _ Kamulet would later learn that being at sea, having freedom would become very borrowing. Kamulet vaguely remembered a old tree in his home area. His mother would point at the tree when it was winter, holding his five years’ hand. “Look, there’s Grandfather Tree. He’s waking up soon but you have to be real careful.” The five year old child would ask why would they had to be careful and his mother would replied in the mysterious way she usually had in one of her lucid moments. “Because, Kamulet,” she had knelt down to the base of Grandfather Tree, still hold Kamulet’s hand. “If no one is careful enough, Grandfather Tree will awaken and take hellish pleasure in destroying the dirty humans if they misbehave to Mother Terra. I’ve made mistakes but I’m willing to amend my mistakes by teaching you the right ways.” He never knew the full answer but he understood why his mother had fallen sickly ill. She had mistreated Mother Terra too often in her youth and paid for it. Kamulet had wondered if he would go the same fate as his passed mother’s soul that wailed at the shore of the sea. He decided to change his course of  _ Dutchman  _ to port right,  _ It’s time to go home _ , the red-eyed captain sighed as his ghostly crew cheered over nothing. Drinking nothing from floating empty cups. Dancing over no sounds but Kamulet heard everything. Of course, a frightening ghostly captain “ruling” the seven seas and a complete insane hatter at that would go together quite nicely to frighten any babes into hushing. 

_______________________________

The man looks at the sky and cries out in pain, in sorrow, in anguish, in every sole of pain that the world had given him. 

_______________________________

Gersy. Wake up. We’ve got no time for you to be throwing smoking cocktails at people you hate. You did choose this verse instead the good one you overlooked five eons ago.  _ Don’t give me that fucking look. _ You’re the person that wanted this lousy earth. I only followed along because it is my  _ duty _ to look after you, the youngest of the Family. ...You’re also the reason why this world is going to hell, not anyone else.

_______________________________

There was always a reason to your madness, wasn’t there? 

You're asking  _ me _ why I put you in here? Well, it's to late my boredom. Lately, I've been finding myself... _ occupied _ with  _ things _ . Things that I would very much like to ignore until it blows up in someone's face. And you're the perfect victim to my riddle of boredom.

Now, tell me, can you solve my problem?

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End file.
